


Nightmares and Dreamscapes

by ShaneVansen



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Smut, h/c, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneVansen/pseuds/ShaneVansen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth has trouble sleeping after the events of <i>The Real World</i>.  Carson and John intervene, though in vastly different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares and Dreamscapes

**Author's Note:**

> For Ankareeda, who "bought" a fic by me during the [Elizabeth Weir Letters-for-Art Auction](http://www.saveelizabethweir.com/content/view/21/15/) and who has been exceedingly patient when I took a while to write it. She requested "Elizabeth overworked herself (finally ;) *lol*) and Carson ordered her to stay in bed. Actually she should stay in the infirmary, but Elizabeth talked Carson out of it. John is all worried and lalala you know, a bit angsting would be nice. :P And it would be great if you can work in a massage and a nice bath. Sparky, NC-17, fluffy &amp; smutty please." It ended up a bit more angsty than fluffy and I couldn't work in the bath part, but I hope it's okay anyway.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Ro and Oparu for betaing what turned out to be a rather long story. Who knew a simple smut fic would turn out to be ten pages long?
> 
> One line "borrowed" from the JAG episode Lifeline. I didn't really mean to, but when I realized why it sounded so familiar after I wrote it I kept it in anyway.
> 
> Originally posted to LJ August 2007.

"Seriously?" Elizabeth drew back to better see Carson.

"Aye, seriously; you obviously haven't slept in the past several days and you're wearing yourself out. I'll make it official if you argue," he added when she went to protest and she quieted immediately.

"How long?" she asked, choosing to go along with him. It would be better to take a few hours now "voluntarily" than to wait for Carson to make it official; at least if she didn't fight it too vehemently he wouldn't be forced to make it an order.

Whoever had given doctors the right to overrule anyone else, regardless of rank, Elizabeth hoped he had spent the rest of his life confined to somewhere as dreadfully boring as the infirmary.

"Twenty-eight hours." Elizabeth recoiled, having expected maybe eight, perhaps twelve hours of enforced downtime, but Carson raised a hand to forestall her complaint. "Do you prefer to spend them here or in your quarters?" he asked with narrowed eyes, and she caught the implied threat. Obviously, she could play along and spend the next day resting in the privacy of her room, or she could protest and pass the next day bored to death, perhaps even sedated, in the infirmary.

"Twenty-eight hours," she agreed with a sigh, sliding off from her perch on the edge of a gurney. "Unless there's an emergency," she added as she headed for the door.

"Unless Atlantis is sinking, I don't want you anywhere near the control room!" Carson hollered after her, and Elizabeth smiled to herself as she ducked into the hallway and pretended not to hear.

**

John stuck his head into the mess hall and frowned when he failed to pick out a familiar head of dark curly hair. Not only was Elizabeth not answering the radio, but he hadn't been able to find her in her office, on either of the balconies she tended to favour, in the gym, in the labs, or now in the mess hall. He couldn't remember her ever disappearing for so long without at least letting him know where she'd be and with the thing with the nanites less than a week behind them, he was seriously beginning to worry. He'd try the infirmary and if there was no sign of her there, he'd head back to the control room and start a city-wide search for her.

Carson seemed to be reviewing files when John entered the area the doctor used as an office, but he looked up right away. "Colonel. Is there something wrong?"

John shook his head, distantly amused that Carson's first thought was that there was a problem. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering if you've seen Elizabeth recently."

Carson set aside his tablet. "She didn't tell you?"

John frowned. "Tell me what?"

"She's barely had any sleep the past week. I've ordered her to rest for the next twenty-eight hours; she's not to do anything work-related. If she's smart, she'll be in her quarters right now." He tilted his head. "I am surprised she didn't let you know."

John blinked at him. "Must've slipped her mind," he said, well aware even as the words left his mouth that it was distinctly un-Elizabeth-like behaviour for her not to let him know she'd be out of contact for an entire day. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well but he hadn't realized it had gotten bad enough that Carson needed to intervene.

He moved to leave but paused at the door, turning back to Carson. "She's okay, right?"

The doctor sighed. "She will be, eventually. I can't say when."

John nodded and thanked him before escaping.

**

He hung out in his office for a while, catching up on a report that he should've handed in two days earlier and finishing one due in a couple of days for the data burst to Earth, then met his team in the mess hall for a late supper. Sometime after, wandering Atlantis with no real destination in mind, he received an unexpected call on his radio.

"You busy?" Elizabeth asked when he answered. John thought she sounded tired.

"Nope," he responded, trying to sound upbeat. "What can I do for you?"

There was a slight pause and his eyebrows drew together in curiosity at her momentary silence. "My laptop is on my desk," she started, sounding almost guilty. "Would you mind bringing it by my quarters?"

One eyebrow rose even though she couldn't see it. "I thought Carson ordered you not to do any work," he teased lightly, already headed up the steps of the control room; he'd been just walking past when she called.

He caught a quiet huff of annoyance. "I'll lose more sleep tossing and turning over all the work that isn't finished than if I just do the reports before bed. What Carson doesn't know won't hurt him."

John didn't miss the warning in her last sentence and grinned. "Is that right?" he said, entering her office and snagging the laptop from her desk.

"It is," she assured him. "We wouldn't want to bother Carson, especially now that he's off-duty for the day, now would we?"

"Probably not," he admitted, nodding to a pair of control techs on his way out of the command center. "He does spend an awful lot of time in the infirmary."

"I knew you'd see things my way."

John could hear her smiling and his lips turned up automatically in response. "I'll see you in five."

**

He barely had time to knock before the door slid open, revealing a pink pyjama-clad Elizabeth on the other side. "Impatient much?" he chided, handing over the laptop.

"Bored," she corrected as she took it from him, moving to set it on her desk. She flipped it open and turned to face him as it booted up, leaning her hip against the edge of the desk, one foot bouncing on the floor.

John studied her a little more closely. She'd sounded tired over the radio but as he looked at her now, she seemed exhausted. Her face was pale, her posture hunched, and she couldn't seem to keep herself entirely still; she kept crossing and uncrossing her arms, readjusting her position, and fidgeting with her clothes. She seemed agitated – or, more likely, overtired. "When's the last time you slept?" he couldn't help but ask, knowing she wouldn't take the question well.

As he expected, she scowled at him. "We already have a doctor, John. I don't need you pulling double duty." He just looked at her without saying anything and after several seconds she looked away. "Sorry," she muttered.

"'S'okay," he replied. John took a few steps closer, realizing he'd been standing in the doorway. "So?" he prodded as the door closed behind him.

"So, what?" asked Elizabeth, glancing up at him.

"When's the last time you slept?" he repeated.

She crossed her arms again and stood up straight. "I've been sleeping," she told him, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

He crossed his own arms and raised his eyebrows. "Really," he drawled, letting his disbelief show.

"Really," she snapped back.

"How much?"

She mumbled something he couldn't make out, and when he made her repeat it she finally looked at him. It was so she could glare, but somehow he felt better that she wasn't avoiding eye contact now. "An hour or two a night, okay?"

John tilted his head a bit, considering her. "Not okay," he said finally, stepping up to her and reaching past to lower the lid of her laptop. "You've had, what, maybe ten hours of sleep this past week? You can't keep going like this, Elizabeth." He grasped her arm and urged her unwilling form in the direction of her bed. "And if you don't start getting a decent amount of sleep Carson's going to relieve you of duty. Is that what you want?" He felt guilty for threatening her like that, but it seemed the easiest way to get through to her.

She went rigid for a second and then suddenly slumped. "Of course not." She yanked her arm out of his grasp and sat on the edge of her bed. John found a chair and settled into it, meeting her gaze head-on when she stared at him. "You're not planning on staying." It was definitely not a question.

"I was, actually," he said companionably, sinking further into his seat. "Comfy chair, by the way."

"John, you are not going to sit here and watch me sleep."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. If you can sit in my room and watch me turn into a giant blue bug, then I can spend a few hours making sure you catch some Zs."

She continued to protest but John just tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Night, Lizabeth," he sing-songed over her objections. She muttered a few more things under her breath – he was pretty sure he caught the words 'stubborn jackass' in there somewhere – but eventually she quieted and then there was nothing but the sound of them breathing and the faint noise of the ocean outside her open window.

**

Elizabeth lay on her back, staring at the patterns cast on her ceiling by the lights of the city. She'd spent many nights just like this, trying to quiet her thoughts and lull her body into sleep, but had been less than successful this past week. Every time she started to drift off the fear of waking up in that hospital jerked her back into awareness. The few times she'd managed to fall asleep, nightmares had promptly taken over, suffocating her with memories of scratchy sheets and medicinal smells and faceless figures lurking in dark corners. It hadn't been this bad since their first year in Atlantis.

Wary of waking John, she stifled the frustrated sigh she wanted to release and turned on her side, curling into a ball and staring sightlessly into the darkness on the far side of her room. After a few minutes she stretched out, her fingers playing with the edge of her pillowcase. Not long after that she twisted onto her other side, facing John, though she could only make out the vague outline of his form against the lighter material of the chair. She lasted about two minutes before rolling onto her back once more.

Though it was unexpected, John's voice didn't startle her. "Y'know," he murmured in the darkness, "Carson's probably got something that could help you sleep."

"No," she said immediately, her voice just as quiet but leaving no room for argument. Besides her distrust of pills after all the medication she'd been forced to take in that horror of a hospital, she didn't want to be trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. Even the thought of it made her tense. Her tone softened as she added, "You should go, John. Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean you have to be awake all night too."

From her left came a sigh, then the rustle of fabric as he rose. A few moments later her bathroom light blinked on and Elizabeth squinted as her eyes adjusted to the soft glow.

John appeared at her side. "Sit up," he ordered, toeing off his boots. Elizabeth did so, more because she felt too exposed lying down with him so close than because he'd told her to. "Turn around," he said next.

She frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

"Turn around," he repeated, echoing his instructions with a motion of his hands. Still frowning, she readjusted her position so that she was facing the headboard, sitting cross-legged. She'd barely settled when the mattress dipped with the weight of John sitting behind her, his hands landing on her shoulders.

Elizabeth stiffened instinctively. "What are you doing?" She meant the question to sound commanding, but to her own ears it sounded more panicked than anything else.

He tightened his hold, not letting her turn around. "I'm helping you sleep," he answered, sounding as if it should have been obvious. Then he squeezed her shoulders and added, "Just trust me, Elizabeth."

She might have continued to protest but he started massaging her shoulders, and she was instantly lost.

Propriety demanded that she tell John to stop but her body rebelled, overruling her brain. She resisted as long as she could but within a matter of minutes even the thought of asking him to stop was long gone as her body succumbed to his touch, muscles that literally ached with fatigue craving the firm pressure of his hands. "Where did you learn how to do this?" she asked, sucking in a sharp breath when he dug into a spot next to her spine.

"An... old friend," he answered vaguely, moving down her back, his thumbs pressing in on either side of her backbone.

Ex-girlfriend, she translated. It didn't really matter, though, as long as he just kept touching her like that, erasing the nightmares from her body.

Elizabeth grasped her pillow and hugged it to her chest, leaning forward so that she was nearly bent in half at the waist as John moved lower down her back. She felt him hesitate when he hit the waistband of her pyjama bottoms, trailing along the edge with such a light touch that she barely felt it. His hands resumed their path, beginning to work their way back up, this time sliding beneath her shirt. They were warm against her bare skin. She held her breath, John pausing in response, and for several seconds they sat there, not moving. Then Elizabeth released her breath in a quiet sigh and thought she caught an echoing exhale from John before he continued. By the time he finished, pulling his hands away with a last caress of his fingers down her spine, she was a boneless pile of bliss.

His hands came to rest on her hips, squeezing lightly. "Better?" he asked, and to Elizabeth his voice sounded strange. Different, somehow.

She sat up and twisted around to face him, his hands lifting as she moved and resettling where they'd been once she stopped. She studied his face, his expression reminding her of a week earlier when he found her overlooking the Stargate in the middle of the night, the night the nanites had finally released their hold. It was rare that he was so unguarded. When he looked at her like that, what did he see? "John?" His name came out much quieter than she meant it to.

"Yeah?"

She opened her mouth to speak but just then he reached forward to brush a strand of hair off her face, and Elizabeth's mind went blank. "Lizabeth?" he prompted, his thumb still resting on the curve of her cheek, and she leaned forward and kissed him.

It was quick and hard and when he didn't respond, she wasn't quite sure if it was because she'd surprised him or because he simply didn't want to. But when she started to pull away he followed, his lips crashing against hers. The hand that had been resting on her face slid back into her hair to hold her still, and her burgeoning embarrassment and uncertainty died a quick death.

Elizabeth slid her hands up John's chest. One hand lingered there, her palm pressed just above his heart. The other slid around to the back of his neck and she scratched her nails lightly against his nape, feeling him shiver in response. The ferocity of their kiss eased and she rose to her knees, moving forward until she was straddling John's legs. He broke their kiss then and looked up at her, his eyes questioning. "Elizabeth—"

She leaned down and pressed her lips against his, cutting off his forthcoming question. She didn't want to hear what he going to ask. She wasn't certain she had any answers to give him.

She brushed her lips against his once, twice, three times, and then his mouth was open beneath hers, his tongue sliding wetly against her own. Elizabeth laced the fingers of one hand in his hair, using her other hand on his shoulder for balance when he began exploring her body. He ran his hands up the backs of her legs and over her rear before sliding up under her shirt, cupping her shoulder blades to pull her closer. She shifted a bit closer, still on her knees over him. That soon changed when he ran his hands back down her body, urging her with touches on her thighs and behind her knees to sit in his lap. She eased down against him and he groaned, his hold tightening as a wave of heat flowed through her at the intimate contact.

Elizabeth broke from John's lips, kissing her way across his jaw and down his neck before resting her head in the curve of his shoulder. She struggled to even out her breathing as her hands rested on his chest, feeling his breath catch when she licked her lips and inadvertently flicked her tongue over his skin. He whispered her name, his hands spread wide low on her hips and his thumbs circling on her bare skin just beneath her top, and she shivered.

After pressing a kiss to his neck, Elizabeth sat back. For several moments they simply stared at each other, both of them still except for their strained breathing and John's thumbs against her sides. She inhaled deeply, breathing him in; the mixture of sweat and deodorant and soap combined to form a scent that was uniquely John, one she'd long come to associate with comfort and safety.

Still holding his gaze, she ran her hands down his chest to the hem of his shirt before sliding them back up beneath the soft material, which gathered around her wrists the higher she moved. She ran her fingers along his arms and John raised them, allowing her to remove his t-shirt. It had barely hit the floor before she was reaching for her own pyjama top, stripping it over her head and tossing it aside. Her hands landed back on John's chest and she used her fingernails to lightly trail a path down towards his stomach, detouring to scratch carefully over his nipples. His hips bucked against hers and she did it again, and then again. When she paused, he ducked his head and captured her lips with his.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, sliding one hand back through John's hair to keep him close. His hands, which had been gripping her hips, started sliding up and down her back in much the same way he'd been massaging her earlier. On his third or fourth pass his thumbs grazed the outsides of her breasts and she couldn't stop the small whimper from escaping. With his hands resting on her sides he traced his thumbs along the underside of her breasts and around the areola, avoiding where she most wanted his touch. With a frustrated moan she pulled back from their kiss. "Stop teasing," she breathed, arching her back.

He smiled at her, something almost predatory in his eyes. "Is that what I'm doing?" he questioned, sounding almost casual. He brushed a thumb against her nipple so delicately she wasn't even sure he had done it at all. She felt it all the way down to her toes anyway.

"Jesus, John." She instinctively tightened her legs around his waist, grinding down against him.

He let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan and she couldn't help but smile faintly at his reaction. "Not fair, Elizabeth," he bit out, sounding strained.

"What's not fair?" she asked as sweetly as she could manage, rocking against him, the move deliberate this time.

John cursed softly, his eyes slamming shut, and she grinned outright. The smile quickly faded, however, when he urged her to lean back, supporting her with his hands, and dipped his head to surround her nipple with his lips.

It was her turn to swear when he flicked his tongue over the sensitive tip of her breast and she could feel him smile against her. "Bastard," she muttered half-heartedly, then arched her back to bring herself closer.

Her world narrowed to his lips and hands and hips against her and she gave herself over to the feeling, not thinking about anything beyond what John was doing to her. It came as something of a shock when she realized how close she was to release; she could come just from this and they were still half dressed.

Fisting her hand in his hair she pulled his head up to hers, kissing him hungrily. In a move that wasn't entirely graceful but still managed to work John pushed her down on her back, following her down and straightening his legs so that he was lying over her, all without breaking their kiss. His chest hair tickled her nipples and she wriggled against him, her quiet laugh at his soft curse cut off by a gasp when his hips ground into hers.

Without warning John pulled away from her completely, moving back until he was between her knees. She watched him, one of his hands drawing absent circles on her calf, and felt her face heat at his unabated stare. "What?" she asked, embarrassed by his scrutiny. He merely shook his head, a small smile touching his lips and that look back in his eyes. Elizabeth might have pursued it but then his hands were back on her body, starting at her shoulders, his fingers trailing so lightly over her collarbone and breasts and stomach that goosebumps formed in their wake. When he reached the waist of her pyjama bottoms he didn't hesitate, fingers hooking beneath the fabric. Elizabeth raised her hips, allowing him to pull the material down and off her legs, leaving her naked before him.

John pulled back and almost before she realized it, he too was naked and once again kneeling between her legs. He started at her ankles, loosely encircling each in his hands and running his fingers up to her knees and then back down her calves, over and over. Elizabeth squirmed; his hands on her lower legs should _not_ feel that good. Then he exchanged his fingers for his mouth and she melted into the mattress.

He began at her ankles again, this time kissing and nipping and licking his way up. He didn't stop at her knees but instead kept going; Elizabeth was nearly panting for breath by the time he was halfway up her inner thigh. When he started nuzzling the crease of her thigh she couldn't hold herself still and John had to clamp his arm over her hips. She growled his name, threading her fingers through his hair and yanking him up. He resisted long enough to swipe his tongue along her sex, from opening to clit, and her hips bucked off the bed.

Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath when John paused on his way up her body to bite gently at her breast, then lave it with his tongue. Then he was kissing her, settling between her thighs, and she let out an involuntary cry at the feel of him sliding into her.

"Okay?" His breath tickled her ear.

She nodded jerkily, bringing her legs up around his waist, her ankles crossing just beneath his backside. He sank deeper at her movement and they both groaned at the sensation. John dropped his forehead to the crook of her shoulder and she cradled the back of his head, holding him to her as they breathed, getting used to the feel of him so close.

After several quiet moments she felt his tongue flick against her collarbone and she shivered, fingers clenching in his hair and her legs tightening around his waist. Through her hand on his back she felt his muscles tense when he flexed his hips, pulling out of her almost completely before thrusting back in. He lifted his head from her shoulder to catch and hold her gaze as he withdrew once more, and she raised up to capture him in a kiss as he slid back in.

They found a rhythm, lips meeting and releasing and tongues sliding together in an echo of what their lower bodies were doing. It was a slow, almost languorous climb until John slid an arm beneath her lower back, changing his angle of penetration; just like that, a wave of heat flooded her, bringing with it a sudden and unexpected urgency. She instinctively arched her back, pulling her knees up higher along John's sides until her heels rested on the small of his back. "Right there," she breathed.

He pushed into her a little harder, his pubic bone glancing over her clitoris. She gasped. "Like that?" he asked, and even through her heartbeat pounding in her ears she could hear the tension underlying the teasing tone he tried to pass off. He wasn't going to last much longer than her, she knew.

He was moving faster now, harder, and she met him thrust for thrust with a twist of her hips on every in-stroke. John faltered slightly the first time she did it, his muscles contracting beneath her roving hands. "God, Elizabeth," he growled in her ear, nipping the lobe before biting his way down her neck.

She was close now, the heat building with every second. Her back bowed, bringing him even deeper inside her and crushing her breasts against his chest, and just a few more strokes were enough to send the heat spiralling through every millimeter of her body.

Elizabeth let out a low, keening cry, fingers digging into John's back, legs trying to clench even harder around hips that were still driving fiercely into hers. Dimly she was aware of John going rigid in her embrace, of his hoarse shout by her ear, but it was a distant second to the orgasm coursing through her.

With the ringing in her ears fading and her breathing somewhat under control, she clung weakly to the man who'd collapsed on top of her, the occasional shudder still wracking his body. She lowered her legs with a wince and combed her fingers through John's hair, slick with sweat and a mess from her hands. Eventually he let out a deep, content-sounding sigh and somehow manouevered onto his back in the single bed, bringing her with him so that she lay half on top of him.

John pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she rubbed her fingers over his chest, scratching lightly with her nails. "We'll talk tomorrow," he said before she even knew she planned to say anything. "Get some sleep."

Elizabeth shifted over him, sliding up his body until they were face to face. She brushed her lips over his until he seemed to grow frustrated with the lack of solid contact and fisted a hand in her hair, holding her still so he could kiss her back properly. He was breathing heavily by the time she pulled away. "Good night, John," she whispered, not entirely able to keep the smug tone from her voice at the naked desire so clearly visible in his eyes. She moved back to where she'd been, resting her head over his heart and letting the strong, steady beat lull her towards sleep.

But in spite of how little rest she'd had the past week and how utterly exhausted she was, Elizabeth just couldn't relax enough to let herself fall asleep. She lay quietly, listening to John's even breaths, trying to fight the memories of a locked, lonely room in a world where the last three years of her life had never existed.

This time, John startled her when he spoke. "Go to sleep, Elizabeth." The arm he'd wrapped around her squeezed her in a hug, his other hand circling gently on her hip. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" She meant it to be a joke but her voice cracked halfway through.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Promise."

With John's hand trailing slowly up and down her bare back, she closed her eyes and did her best to banish the memories of her real-life nightmare. Some two hours later, she finally fell asleep.

**

As promised, John was there when she woke an hour and a half after that, shaking and covered in sweat. He brushed her hair back from her face, got her a glass of water, and held her close as she lay awake for the rest of the night.

_\--end--_


End file.
